"Jack is busy," he replied, his gaze front and center as he wove the cab in and out of traffic and parked cars like a man on a mission. "And there's one rule in this game you should never forget."

"And what game and rule are we talking about?"

"This game. The investigative business." His gaze met mine briefly. "Never run yourself into the ground for them. They'll take and take until you have no more to give, then they'll cast you aside to find fresher meat."

"I'm not an investigator, and I'm not a guardian."

"Maybe not officially." His expression was grim as he swerved to avoid a parking car. "And that makes it worse. Think about it—ten days ago you were in a coma, and so badly smashed up no one in that center thought you were going to come out of it. Since then, you've been in the middle of investigations, have been attacked several times, and have taken little in the way of time out."

"We can't afford time-outs. Not if we want to catch these people off guard."

"Is catching these people off guard more important than your health? You look tired, and you've lost weight, even in the brief few days I've known you."

"Having someone attempting to kill you all the time does tend to halt the appetite, you know. And constant sex doesn't help, either."

"And using sex as a means of questioning suspects is not only good exercise, but an extremely stressful situation. I know." He met my gaze again. "Ring Rhoan. Tell him what you learned. Let him uncover the truth from the lies while you rest."

"Has he got a hand in this?"

"I told him what I was going to do, and where I intended to take you. I'm not a fool, and have no wish to incur your pack-mate's wrath."

Wise man. "So where are you intending to take me?"

"To a mare's place in Toorak."

I frowned. "I thought you said your mares had scattered?"

"I did. And they did. But Sable went overseas before I went undercover, and she's not due back for another two months."

The name, and the fact that he seemed sure he'd find the exact scents I wanted, had me staring at him in disbelief. "We're not talking Sable Kandell, are we?" The woman was the latest TV phenomenon, with her show rating through the roof and all five of her books still amongst the best sellers.

"That would be my girl."

His voice held a hint of pride, and I blinked. "How did a military man like you get hooked up with a stunner like that?"

"Simple. We grew up together. She was mine from the word go."

Obviously, there was a whole lot about the horse-shifter culture that I didn't know. "So why let her go overseas? I thought all you stallions were too proprietary to allow something like that."

He ignored the light changing from amber to red, swung right into Hoddle Street, then said, "Oh, have no fear, she's branded as mine. No other stallion would dare touch her."

Stallions branded their mates? Thank God I wasn't a mare—and that wolves didn't have such barbaric practices. "Considering she's overseas, how would you know?"

"I'd know." His voice was flat, and certainly didn't invite further questions. Maybe it was secret stallion stuff. "Call Rhoan," he added, and handed me a phone.

So I called Rhoan, and told him everything Misha and Kellen had told me. Kade pulled into a beautiful old English mansion right in the middle of what was quaintly termed "millionaires row." Meaning, the folk in this street were considered the poorer cousins of the Toorak crowd. Of course, most of the really rich cousins had moved on to leafy Brighton.

Kade led me inside, poured me a glass of wine to drink while he readied the spa, dropped in the scents I'd asked for, then helped me strip and climb in. As the piece de resistance, he leisurely washed my hair as the warm water bubbled around my limbs, easing tensions I hadn't realized existed even as the flowery scents touched the air, soothing and relaxing.

Once he'd helped me dry off, he sat me down and combed my hair, and, though at that point I was ready and willing to dance with him, he led me to bed, tucked me in, and walked away.

It occurred to me then that no other man in my life—besides my brother—had ever treated me so sensually, so lovingly, so damn wonderfully, just because he knew I needed it. Which was a rather sad statement about my life and my relationships to date. Even Quinn, for all his fine words about needing to be in my life, had yet to show the sort of caring Kade had just shown.

Really, the only man in my life showing any real potential as a permanent mate was Kellen, and I barely even knew him.

Maybe I should just cut my losses and play with Kade. I might never find my soul mate, but at least I'd be guaranteed a little tender loving care every now and again.

I was beginning to wonder if Quinn even knew what that was.

It was near five by the time we arrived at Genoveve, and considering we should have been there in the morning rather than late in the afternoon, Jack was in a surprisingly good mood. I wish the same could be said for Quinn. He was standing near the windows, looking out over the old arena, his hands clasped behind his back and tension riding his shoulders. His air of disapproval and anger hit so hard it was like a physical blow. I staggered, gasping to breathe as the air around me seemed to bubble and boil in fury.

Kade grabbed my arm, holding me upright. "Jesus, what's happening?"

"Riley?" Rhoan said, almost at the same time.

I ignored them both, my gaze boring into Quinn's stiff back as I gasped, "Quinn, stop it."

He glanced at me sharply, then the sense of his anger snapped into nothingness, and suddenly I could breathe again.

I put a hand up, stopping Rhoan as he hurried toward me. "It's okay. I'm okay." I squeezed Kade's hand, and he released me, yet kept near, as if afraid I was going to topple again.

Rhoan frowned as his gaze drifted between me and Quinn. "What happened?"

"I can sense what Quinn is feeling if he isn't shielding properly."

Rhoan's frown deepened, but it was Jack who said, "Empathy is not one of your talents."

"I don't think it's empathy, or I'd be sensing what everyone was feeling." I hesitated. "I think it has more to do with that link we created when we were about to raid Talon's labs. It seems to have gone deeper than we intended."

Jack didn't look convinced. "And it might just be the first sign that the ARC 1-23 is starting to take effect. We'll have to get you back into the lab for more tests."

"Sorry, but I'm over being pricked, prodded, and poked right now." In more ways than one. "Let's just get this mess sorted out first."

He grunted, and looked back to his com-screen. "It seems Misha is finally giving us some worthwhile information."

I walked across to one of the comfy chairs and plonked down. Kade stayed where he was and leaned a shoulder against the wall. Quinn continued to do his silent and angry vampire act.

"In what way?" I asked Jack.

He leaned back in his chair, and practically beamed. In all the years I'd worked for him, I'd never seen him this happy, and I wasn't entirely sure whether to be amused or scared.

"We've been aware of the Helki pack's activities for some time," he said. "They're black market racketeers and sell everything from stolen car parts to government secrets. But because you wolves tend to be very tightly knit, we've been unable to get anyone in there to collect the proof we need."

"Without getting anyone in there, you're not going to be able to glean too much information about them."

"No, only what we're able to ascertain from keeping a continuous watch on them."

I raised an eyebrow. "That wouldn't happen to be where Gautier's been this last month, is it?"

Jack nodded. "It's better we keep him out of trouble while we decide what to do with him."